Page 84 of Sweet Passions at Bayside
“And then I went away to school and something changed.”
“He lost his father, Dean. Years ago, he’d promised your grandfather he’d carry on the Masters name with pride. Your grandfather’s shoes would have been hard for ten men to fill, and your father wasn’t going to let anyone else take care ofhisfather’s patients. And at the same time, he wasn’t going to let down his own. Suddenly the success of the practice and the name of the foundation came down tohim. He couldn’t see twice the patient load. He couldn’t do it alone, but he refused to accept that and refused to give up his father’s or his own patients to his partners. To him that would have felt like he was letting his father, and his patients, down.”
“He’s a control freak,” Dean seethed.
“No. He’s a perfectionist. There’s a difference. He cares deeply about every patient he sees.”
Dean scoffed. “It doesn’t seem like it. He’s all about image and income.”
“I know it appears that way, but he’s not. He’s image conscious only because it’s his image, in his father’s shadow, that keeps the high standards of the foundation in place and the donations rolling in so that that foundation can help millions of families.Millions, Dean. Not one or two, not a hundred, or even a thousand.Millions.He caved under the pressure of it all, sweetheart. Don’t you see that? You boys were on your way to adulthood, and he only had me at home to worry about. And I didn’t mind the longer hours. I’ve always been self-sufficient, and I knew how important this was to him. It wasn’t until months later that I realized how much he had changed. How the job had sucked all the joy out of him.”
Dean sank down on the chair again, his chest constricting. “He has partners to help him with the practice.”
“Yes, he does. But they’re notMasters.”
His heart thudded against his ribs as the pieces of his father’s life worked into some semblance of understanding. “But he treats people—”
“Wonderfully,andnot so nice, depending on where he is and what he’s going through.”
“It’s inexcusable.”
“Yes. It is.” She sat in the chair beside him and sighed. “Honey, he pushes you because he has always seen greatness in you. He knows you’d make an amazing doctor. You were top of your class. You never let things go. You were relentless in your pursuit to save every patient who landed on your table.”
“And he called meweakfor it.” The venomous word still burned. “Grandma called mehuman.”
She smiled. “Grandma is an incredible woman, and she’s right. But he’s lost, Dean. He got swallowed up by the business and the pressure, and he doesn’t know how to get out from under it. His ability to separate what he wanted for you, and what was best for you, got buried, too.”
“Well, I’m not the answer. I will never go to medical school.”
“I know, honey. I’m not here to ask you to do anything. Not to apologize to him, not to change your life. I just thought it was time we talked about all of this. You probably don’t know this, but when Doug decided not to remain here in the States and practice with your father, he went head-to-head with him. It wasn’t pleasant, but Doug isn’t Jett. He left the door open, like you always have.”
“Dad thinks the world of Doug because he’s a doctor.”
“No, honey. Dad thinks the world of each of you because you’re his sons. He doesn’t think one is more or less of a man because of their job. He just wanted more for you.” She paused and stared out at the gardens. “Do you remember why you decided to be a trauma nurse?”
“Of course. How could I ever forget?” He’d been in a car accident as a teenager and in addition to broken bones, he’d suffered internal bleeding. The thing he remembered most was the calm and confident demeanor of the trauma nurse. She’d taken the overwhelming fear out of the situation, and he’d wanted to do that for others. It had been a bone of contention with his father, who had wanted him to follow in his footsteps and join the practice. That had been the tip of the skeleton that would forever haunt them.
“You were determined to be the best trauma nurse you could. You told me that you were made for the job. Remember?”
He nodded. “I do. I thought I was.”
“But you learned otherwise,” his mother reminded him. “Real life got the better of you.”
His pulse raced with the memories of too many nights feeling as though he were in a dark tunnel with no way out. “Seeing all that death and destruction nearly killed me,” he said defensively as his mother’s point began sinking in. “I might be weak, but I know what I’m capable of, and that wasn’t it. I chose to surround myself with life instead of death.”
“You are not weak, honey. What is it with you men? You all think there’s some line drawn in the sand between weak and strong, and you have to be on one side of it or another at all times. Life isn’t like that. We are all weak, strong, pathetic sometimes and valiant at other times. You did the right thing for yourself by changing careers. You were stressed even when you weren’t working because, like your father, you carried the emotions of the job with you on your days off, and that stress affected every aspect of your life. But it’s easier when it’s just you with no one else’s life hanging in the balance. Don’t you think it’s a little wrong to judge your father for not taking thatout, when he has so many people—families, physicians, children, researchers—relying on him? How does a man walk away from families and patients who have developed years of trust in him? Tell me, Dean. If you had been him, after practicing for decades, becoming a pillar of the community because of your dedication to medicine and to the well-being of children around the world, could you have walked away from it?”
His throat tightened with emotion, making it hard to breathe. It was all he could do to process the truth in her words.
“He may not be the same person he used to be, but, honey, I know the man I married is still in there somewhere. I get glimpses of him from time to time, and I can’t walk away from that. I see the father who used to read you bedtime stories and take you fishing. The man who adores you, regardless of whether he’s able to show it at the moment.” She set her hand on his and said, “I know it’s hard to hear the truth, but you needed to hear it even if it doesn’t excuse what your father has done. What you do with all of this information is up to you.”
He saw Emery walking by the window and his heart ached. “I will never be okay with the way he demeaned Emery’s career or the way he treated her. I love her, Mom. She’s my life now, not him.”
His mother’s eyes dampened and she nodded, a small smile lifting her lips. “I know, baby. It’s a shame that you feel there’s a choice to be made, and it’s a greater shame that he can’t see the light. But I have faith that one day he will. We can’t always control the things we think, or do, no matter how hard we try. We’re all only human.”
Dean reached for his mother’s hand. “Thank you for makingmesee the light. I never in a million years would have seen myself as anything like Dad. But I guess I was in denial.” He shook his head, thinking of Emery again. They had even more in common than he’d thought. “I’m sorry that you’re caught in the crossfire, Mom. I never wanted to hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me, baby. What hurts me is seeing my family suffer. But that’s more on your father than anyone else. I have faith that we’ll get past this.”
